


Bright Lights and Cityscapes

by pleasanthell



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 17:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasanthell/pseuds/pleasanthell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>H.G. deals with the events of "Instinct" and has to come to terms with the reality she's been hiding from. </p><p>Spoilers for season 4 episode 15 "Instinct"</p><p>SHELVED</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You should have known it would end like this. Most things that involve people you love do. You got lucky this time. No one died.

You take a long drink of your tea. Then you carefully set the tea down. The shop has managed to burn the tea leaves and bring it to you cold. You let out a deep sigh.

You don’t know what to do now. You have decided that you’re too dangerous stick around Nate and Adeline. And maybe you were trying to bring Christina back to life through Adeline. Maybe the one person that knows you the most, knows you more than you do.

However, all of your dreams of a normal life seem to be shattered yet again. You’re starting to wish that the regents had had a more lethal way of taking care of your back when they bronzed you so you wouldn’t have to keep living the same sad story over and over.

Of course, there is always the Warehouse. The only place to you that has really felt like home.  You’ve often wondered if it’s actually the warehouse or the people…person.

You let out a deeper sigh and stretch out your shoulders. You don’t know if you could ever go back after that look in Myka’s eyes. She risked her life to keep your new life intact. She showed you the kind of devotion that no one has ever attempted to, a kind of devotion that you know you don’t deserve.

You know there was always something between you. Something so intense that the two of you were afraid of so you never spoke of it. Something so strong two intelligent, capable women such as yourselves were too afraid to breach.

Of course you attempted to study it from afar. The scientist in you tried to find exactly what it was. The writer in you adored it for the wonder that it was.

You place some money on the table and stand. You’re not going to drink this terrible tea. You think that you’ll just make some when you get home. Then you realize that you don’t have a home anymore.

You look down at your phone. This glorious little device that allows you to communicate with people all around the world holds the key to that thing that you’re most afraid of. But phone calls are so impersonal. You like talking face to face.

Which is what you’re going to do.

When you pull up to the B&B it seems so much different. The flowers outside which were usually so carefully tended have begun to wilt under the warm summer sun. You remember all the sorrow that this place brings you and how no one can seem to escape it.

That’s it. You’re a slave to the warehouse, destined to forever be burdened with its mysteries. No matter how normal you try to be, you’ll never be normal enough to get away.

So you’re back. You’re defeated. The warehouse has won yet again.

You slowly walk to the front door of the B&B. You open the door and peek your head in for a listen. You don’t hear the loud shouts of Pete playing his video games or the beautiful piano which Artie plays. You don’t hear the tapping of a computer keyboard which announces Claudia or the soft pads of Steve’s shoes as he stands up, sits down, and paces around while watching a sporting event.

Something you realized a long time ago was that Myka was quiet. You could never tell if she was at the B&B or not because of sound. It was always a pleasant surprise to find her curled up on the couch or the porch swing with a book when you were sure she was gone for the day. Sometimes when you’d catch her with one of your books, she would blush slightly and try to hide the title.

As you walk through the B&B you find that it is empty, but the security system is off meaning that the group is probably just at the Warehouse.

You walk into the kitchen and put on a kettle. You open the cupboard and find the different kinds of teas (Myka’s doing) stacked in alphabetical order (Claudia’s doing), with a box of cookies on top (Pete’s doing). You pick out the most battered looking box and bring it to your nose. It smells heavenly.

After you make a perfect cup of tea, you sit down on the porch outside. It is a beautiful day out. You rest your chin in your palm and look out at the road that leads to the warehouse. You’re still authorized to get in. You could walk in right now, but right now you need to comfort of the B&B. You don’t know how long it will take you to be able to forgive the warehouse.

As you drink your tea, you see a car coming up the road. You recognize Claudia’s beloved Prius. You remain seated until the car is parked and Claudia and Steve are getting out of the car. Claudia stands up and smiles when she sees you. She walks quickly toward you with Steve behind her.

“What are you doing here, HG?” she asks you as she gives you a hug.

You’ve missed this girl’s smile and enthusiasm. “I’m not quite sure yet.”

She steps away and Steve moves in for a hug. You don’t really know him well, but he’s warm and sincere in his greeting.

Ever the Brit, you ask the duo, “Would you like some tea?”

They both accept and soon you’re all sitting outside with your tea. You learn that Pete told them the entire story of what happened in Wyoming. Myka let him and didn’t wish to add any more.

“So I guess it didn’t work out?” Steve ventures.

You nod, “That is the way things seem to go with me.”

You all sit in silence for a while before Claudia speaks up, “Myka is in Malawi. M-Myka and Pete.”

You smile. You smile at her perception and how your eyes have occasionally wandered to the road where Claudia and Steve emerged from. You also smile at her occasional stutter that you find so charming. You know it’s because her quick brain has already moved on from the words that her mouth has yet to speak.

You nod, accepting that the comfort you were seeking would not be complete until their return. It’s okay though. You’re still unsure of what to say to when you see Myka again.

“Abigail is kinda staying in your old room,” Steve adds. He then explains who Abigail is and why she’s here.

“I’ll be just fine on the couch. I’m not entirely sure how long I’ll be here anyway,” you confess.

You’re all quiet for a few moments before Claudia pipes up. “You could stay in Myka’s room.”

 “I don’t-“

You’re interrupted by Claudia, “You can’t sleep on the couch. That’s where…that’s where I – we all go at night if we…can’t sleep.”

You know all too well of the hazard of losing sleep because of this job, “Of course. I don’t suppose a few days couldn’t hurt.”

“It’s certainly safer than staying in Pete’s room,” Steve jokes.

The three of your laugh some more around your tea before Artie and the new psychiatrist arrives. Artie greets you with a hug and Abigail greets you with a polite handshake.

When no one volunteers to make dinner after grumbling for ten minutes about behind hungry, you volunteer. You might as well put your new culinary skills to work. You find that cooking is like chemistry. You put the right ingredients and the right amounts in and it can be very good and any slight misstep could be disastrous.

You do manage to pull off dinner quiet well and after dinner everyone goes to their various activities. Artie and Claudia are behind keyboards of different kinds. Steve watches hockey and Abigail disappears into her room to watch TV.

You look over at the sofa next to the bookcase where Myka used to like to perch herself with a great book. You used to make her tea while she was reading because you were always hard pressed to find something more enjoyable that a great book and great tea.

You survey the room, seeing everyone engrossed in their own activities. You decide to leave them be and go up to bed. It’s been quite a long day. You look at the bookshelf, contemplating getting a book to read before bed. However, you decide that if you’re going to read, it might as well be whatever Myka is reading.

When you get to her bedroom, you’re hesitant to close yourself inside. You’re not sure why. You look over the nightstand. There is that perpetual stack of books there. You slowly walk toward it and pick up a well-worn copy of The Island of Dr. Moreau. You smile softly as you flip through the pages, seeing all the markings that she has made.

You stop to see what she has underlined on one page. You read it softly out loud to yourself, “I must confess that I lost faith in the sanity of the world.” You look at the text and then place the book back where it belongs.

You know this book was written in a dark time in your life. It was an outlet for the unbearable pain. It was originally darker and more specific, but Charles helped you tone it down. You’re sure your original copy is somewhere in the warehouse. You wonder if Myka has found it. You wonder if it would change her opinion of you.

You take a deep breath and sit down on the bed. You could obviously call Myka and ask if it is okay for you to stay in her room, but you don’t want her mind to not be in the job. You know how dangerous it could be if she is distracted. Especially since she is the perceptive one in her working partnership.

You don’t feel that it will be a problem, but you’re always afraid that you have crossed too many lines with her and she wants nothing to do with you anymore. That is always your biggest fear.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a globe-trotting Secret Service Agent was always your dream, but as you drive back to Univille from the airport with a deadly artifact bagged in your pocket, you’re tired.

Being a globe-trotting Secret Service Agent was always your dream, but as you drive back to Univille from the airport with a deadly artifact bagged in your pocket, you’re tired. Malawi was, as all places are for you, dangerous. You just want to get into your bed.

To top it all off, your phone was broken during a struggle for the artifact and you haven’t had the chance to use Pete’s because he killed his phone after three hours of Angry Birds in the airport. Again, you just want to go to bed.

“Why don’t I drop you at the B&B and I’ll take the artifact to the Warehouse?” Pete offers. He knows that you’re especially tired. You haven’t been sleeping well since seeing HG in Wyoming. Even though you did everything to keep her there, you only did it because you hoped it would finally make her happy. Everything you did to keep her there killed you inside. Like a slow and powerful poison.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “Thanks.”

When you get out, you kick the ground all the way into the B&B. You don’t expect anyone to be there. Claudia has been spending most of her days in the Warehouse, making friends with the Warehouse. Steve just follows Claudia around. Artie and Abigail disappear for hours at a time. You’re glad for that. Artie needs to learn to forgive himself for things he didn’t actually do.

You trudge up the stairs and down the hallway to your room. You pause at the room across the hall from yours. It now belongs to Abigail, but you remember being able to peek in there and see Helena bent over her desk, scribbling notes and referencing books or tinkering with some new invention or taking something modern apart to see how it worked.

You smile to yourself. You hope that she’s happy wherever she is.

You turn to your door and open it. As it swings open, you shrug off your jacket and turn immediately to the left to hang it up on the back of your door. You try to decide if you should shower before bed when you hear the front door open and close. “Myka!” Claudia yells. You worry that something has happened and step out into your hallway, then run down the stairs.

When Claudia sees you she says, “Don’t be mad at me. I told her it was okay. I thought I’d be back before you got here. She was just so sad and had nowhere to go and I didn’t think you’d mind because you two always had the-you know-looks and smiles and stuff. I thought that-” Claudia finally looks at your face and sees the confusion, “Oh you haven’t seen her yet.”

“Seen who?” you ask with a quirked eyebrow.

Claudia frowns and passes you to walk up the stairs. You follow her. She peeks into your room and then pulls her head back out. “That.” She pats your shoulder, “Well I’m going back to the Warehouse to keep getting all friendly.” Then she walks out of the hallway, down the stairs, and out the door.

You frown deeper and step back into your room. Your breath is sucked out of you when you see her. Helena is laying on your bed in some of your work out shorts and a tank top, with an open book on her chest. She’s fast asleep with her hair snaking around her face and neck to frame her perfectly.

You don’t know how you didn’t notice her there before. You go back through everything that Claudia said, trying to glean why she’s here. You bite your lip when you remember Claudia said that HG was sad and had nowhere else to go.

You can’t really do anything about it or ask why as she’s asleep. So you walk to the bed and gently slip your fingers around the corner of the book in an attempt to take the book off of her. However as you pull it, her grip in it tightens. Her eyes flutter open and she sits up quickly. You take a quick step back so that you don’t get kenpo-ed. You’re trained in hand to hand combat, but HG is in a league of her own when it comes to empty handed combat.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly when you know you’re not about to get your ass kicked.

She shakes her head and runs a hand through her hair, “No. I’m sorry.” She looks up at you. She looks unsure of what to do next.

You don’t know what to do either. You don’t know if you can handle talking right now so you decide to do something else. You move to the bed and sit down. You kick off your shoes and lay down next to her. “Let’s just sleep now. We can talk later.”

She smiles softly at you. She nods, “I’d like that.”

You want so badly to put your arm around her and just hold her while you both sleep, but you don’t know if you’re allowed to. You don’t know who she’s with now or why she’s here so you just look at her one last time before closing your eyes, content that she’s the last person you see before you drift off to sleep.

There’s a part in The Time Machine where the protagonist is seeing the future for the first time. You always picture HG as that protagonist. The book has so much more meaning to you now that you have seen HG exploring the future of her time. You have many dreams of HG in the book or just HG wandering the Warehouse look at the less ancient artifacts. You of course have that horrible recurring nightmare where HG dies, saving you. You don’t know exactly what it looked like when she saved you, Pete, and Artie. Only Artie knows, but you have the most vivid dreams about it. HG doesn’t tell you what she’s doing because she knows you’d stop her. She uses the warehouse’s own shield to protect you, Pete, and Artie, but has to initiate it from the outside. Then she smiles and you and tells you that she smells apples. Then she’s gone.

You’re awakened by that same nightmare now. You sit up in the bed and push your hair out of your face. You look around the room to get your bearings and see that HG is gone.

For an instant, you panic. Maybe you didn’t actually see her in your bed. Maybe she died trying to save you from the bomb in the warehouse. Maybe….your brain stops all rational thought and you jump out of bed and run out the door. You fly down the hallway and bound down the stairs. You’re about to run out the door and jump into your car to make sure that the warehouse is still there when someone grabs your arm.

“Whoa Mykes,” Pete says, “Where’s the fire?”

You stop to catch your breath and look at him, shaking your head, “The warehouse…” You trail off, seeing some inquisitive eyes peek out at you from the living room. You rub your head. “I, um, I had a nightmare that the… the warehouse…”

Pete nods and makes an explosion sound with his mouth and flares out his hands. He understands. You know he has dreams about it too. You’ve been too scared to ask him about his dreams because if they actual match up with yours then it’s really a memory and you don’t think you could deal with the knowledge that that was real.

When your eyes return to Helena, you wonder if she dreams about it too. You wonder if she gives her life in exchange for yours night after night.

“Since we have the night off, Steve and I are going to a hockey game,” Pete announces. “You get to keep up with Claudia and the old man tonight.” He wiggles his fingers at you.

You smile despite not getting to be alone with HG like you wanted.

“Ask HG to make you some of her grilled chicken marsala,” Pete kisses his fingers, “To die for.” He turns and winks at HG. She smiles at him.

Then he walks out, calling Steve and telling him that it’s time to go.

Which leaves you alone in the kitchen with HG. You lick your lips, “I guess those cooking classes came in handy huh?”

“I suppose they have,” she smiles at you. A smile that you’ve noted is only reserved for you. She gestures to the stove, “Are you hungry?”

“Not right now,” you tell her. You kind of want to talk about serious things going on, but as long as you don’t talk about it, none of the bad things can be real so you plan to avoid talking about serious things for a while longer.

It’s quite obvious you both are struggling for something to say so you add, “But um, how about I made some tea?”

She smiles, “I would like that.”

You turn on the kettle and ask her what kind she would like. She just shrugs and says whatever you’re having. You make some honey, vanilla, chamomile tea that you actually had imported from London because Helena had told you a long time ago that it was one of her favorites, even back before she was bronzed.

You stand there and watch the tea steep, occasionally glancing at the clock on the wall. Although she’s never rejected tea made by anyone in this house, you know that HG is very picky about her tea as are most British people you know.

As you’re about to pick up the tea to take to her you hear Claudia. “Hey ladies,” she walks in with a grin, “How’s it going?”

“Very well,” Helena answers. Then she looks to you. You can’t help, but smile and nod.

“Great,” Claudia says quickly, claps her hands togheter, and turns to you, “I need you to go outside or somewhere else.”

“What?” you blink.

Claudia lowers her voice, “Let’s just say that you don’t want to be an accomplice for what I’m about to do.”

“What are you about to do?” you ask with a furrowed brow.

“Let’s just say that since Pete is out of the house, I have a little chance to get back of him for the goo grenade he threw at me while we were playing Warehouse tag,” Claudia tells you.

You wonder how anyone gets anything done when you’re not there. You kind of want to know what Warehouse tag is, but you’re afraid to ask. “I’ll, um…”

“We can sit outside,” HG offers.

“Great,” Claudia nods and a mischievous grin, “You do that and I’ll…try not to let it spill into your room.”

She runs off as you call after her, “Try not to let what spill into my room?”

HG just chuckles and opens the patio door for you. You slowly shake your head, “Those two are going to burn down the B&B someday playing practical jokes.”

“Oh I have missed it here,” Helena says, closing the door to the patio as you set the tea on the table.

“I’m glad you came back,” you tell her honestly. You sit down at the table and watch her walk to the chair across the table from you. She puts her hand on the back of it to pull it out and pauses. She takes her hand off of that chair and steps to the chair perpendicular to yours. She pulls it out and sits down.

You smile and push her cup of tea over to her. You both take a long sip and you lean back in your chair, “So what brings you to scenic South Dakota?”

She looks down at her cup. Something about her face is sad, yet hopeful. Maybe her eyes. You wish you could see her better. “I, um…I think you may have been right about my reasons for being with Nate and Adeline. I was trying to…to live a life that I- that I don’t deserve.”

You blink. “What-what do you mean?” You pause and when she doesn’t answer you add, “How could you think that you don’t deserve to be happy?”

“I’ve thought that for a long time actually,” she picks up her tea and takes a sip. “The thoughts that you have when you’re bronzed, alone with nothing to do but think…they stay with you. Mine certainly stayed with me.”

You swallow, “You didn’t deserve what happened to you.” You have to make her understand that what she did-what she tried to do-weren’t eternally damning. She has more than made up for what she attempted to do. “You deserve to be happy. More than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“But this is the life that I chose when I chose to be a Warehouse agent,” HG states wistfully. “I can’t actually have a normal life now can I? I tried and it didn’t work out. I pretended that I was home, somewhere that I was not.”

You clear your throat and study her closely, “Where is your home?”

“I don’t feel like I have one anymore,” Helena takes a sip of her tea. “I was hoping that going back to the Warehouse would feel more like home.”

“What did it feel like?” you ask.

She runs her finger over the rim of the tea cup, “I haven’t gone to the Warehouse yet.”

“Why not?” you ask softly, secretly hoping that she was waiting for you to go to the Warehouse.

She pauses and takes a deep breath, “What if it’s not my home anymore?”

You let that sink in. There is deep insecurity in her voice. You realize how alone she feels. You thought that you knew before, after she was un-bronzed. She was alone as a visionary in her time. She is alone in your time. You bow your head, “I-I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what that’s like.” You offer your condolences then you offer your support, “But I’ll go with you…if or when you decide to go.”

“Thank you,” HG nods. She swallows and takes a deep breath, “I can’t imagine taking on that giant with anyone else.”

You offer her a small smile. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

Helena nods, “It will probably be tomorrow. I can’t do it today, but if I wait any longer, I’ll lose my courage.”

You grin lazily, “I don’t think courage is something that you lack.”

“You’d be surprised,” she says and sips her tea.

“Well you’ve been courageous for me,” you tell her, “I’ll be courageous for you this time.”

She smiles at you, her brilliant smile. “Thank you, Myka. If you’re not busy tomorrow morning, I would like to go to the Warehouse.”

“Of course,” you nod, proud that she has chosen you to usher her back into the warehouse.

There is a silence that settles over you while you finish up your tea. When both of your cups are empty, you look over at her with a smile, “I think it’s time to reopen our discussion about Herman Melville.”

HG groans, “Oh that gossipy old wanker. I don’t know why you insist on defending him when I actually knew him.”

You get all warm inside when she talks with that sparkle in her eye. She talks of her old life and her old friends. She gets the sparkle when you debate with her as well. You love the intellectual challenge that she presents you. You love Pete and all, but he’s not exactly someone you can discuss Kafka with.

You talk with HG until the sun goes down and for a few hours afterwards. It is only when Pete and Steve pull up that you realize how long it has actually been.

You both stand up at the same time and pick up your cups. You open the door for her and she smiles at you as she walks in. Pete and Steve walk in, excited and pumped from the win of their favorite local team. The South Dakota Sticks or something like that. You’re not really one to follow sports, although you try for Pete.

Everyone gathers when Steve announces that they brought Chinese food home. Dinner is nice. It feels like your little family is back together. However you still feel the sting in your heart when you see Abigail sitting in Leena’s chair. You know that everyone else does as well, especially Artie.

“So, uh, is HG just gonna bunk with you?” Steve asks you as the two of you clean up after dinner.

“I guess. I mean if she wants to,” you shrug and try to play it off like you aren’t desperately praying internally that she decides to stay with you. “If not, I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

Steve chuckles, “I’m sure she’ll be okay sleeping with you.”

You’re confused by that statement, but you just go with it. He rolls his eyes playfully and walks into the living room.

After you close the dishwasher and start it, you walk into the living room to find Steve talking with HG while Claudia sits on the couch in what she calls a coding trance. You’ve learned not to disturb her from her trances.

“Oh I couldn’t impose,” HG says to Steve. Her arms are crossed. “I can just-”

“There’s no imposition,” you interrupt. You may not have been privy to the whole conversation, but you know what she’s talking about.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

You offer her a tentative smile, “Very sure.”

Steve claps his hands together, “Well I’m going to hit the hay. Claudia and I are up for the next international artifact. Have a nice night.”

That leaves you and HG with coding tranced Claudia. So you gesture to the stairs, “A-Are you tired?”

“I can’t say that I am,” HG says, taking a deep breath. “I was actually thinking about taking a walk.”

You’re a little disappointed. You wanted to keep spending time with her, but you understand if she needs some space.

Your disappointment must have shown through your face because she smiles kindly as you, “I was hoping that you’d join me.”

You bashfully smile, “I’d like that.”

She opens the door for you and you step out in front of her, grabbing your Tesla off of the small table by the door where Leena made you all start leaving them after an accident that singed a beautiful dinner that she made.

The Secret Service Agent in you scans the horizon for anyone lurking in the shadows. The Warehouse Agent in you scans all over for anything out of the ordinary as you clip your Tesla harness onto your belt.

You can hear HG chuckle next to you, “Ever the diligent agent.”

You duck your head, “I guess it’s a habit now.”

“It’s a good one,” HG says and leads the way onto the driveway.

You walk in silence for a while just following her. The moon lights your path as you walk down the dirt road that leads to the warehouse. You wonder if she’s purposely walking there or if she’s just walking and somehow being lead to the warehouse. You wonder if the warehouse calls out to her. You remember that she told you that at one time, the warehouse liked her, maybe loved her. You’re sure that it still does. You know that you do.

She lets out a deep sigh and looks toward the ground.

“Are you okay?” you ask. You want to take her in your arms, but you know that that crossed boundaries into something you’re not sure you can ever have with her. So you just touch her arm. A simple gesture to let her know that you’re there.

She smiles at the ground before glancing at you. Then her gaze moves toward the sky. “You’re an amazing person, Myka.”

You can’t help, but beam, “Thank you.” You pause, “Not that I’m not loving the love, but are you…really okay?”

“I don’t know,” Helena shrugs. “I feel…lost, as cliché as that is to say. The Warehouse is where I’m the most miserable, but it is where I feel most at home.”

You think it over, mulling what she just said. Then you say, “What makes you miserable?”

HG puts her hands in her pockets, “I’ve spent my life chasing artifacts, making artifacts. They corrupt reasonable people. They hurt people. People that I love. And everywhere I go, someone gets hurt because of the artifacts…because of me.”

“It’s not because of you,” you try to reassure her.

“I wish I could believe that,” HG shuffles to a stop. You’ve reached the end of the road that leads to the massive clearing around the Warehouse. You can see the huge building in the distance. You both look at it with its flickering lights around the perimeter.

You turn to her. You can feel her eyes gently glide over your face in a way that makes you feel exposed, but you don’t look away. You want to be someone who can stand strong for her when everyone else around her crumbles. “Then stay here. What have you got to lose?”

Her eyes gradually slide up to meet yours, “You.”

“Me?” you ask automatically. It’s more of a surprise reflex.

“You know me better than anyone else has ever attempted to,” HG says earnestly, “And every time we’re together you almost get killed.”

You try to lighten the mood and say, “I almost get killed all the time. Hazards of the job.”

“Unfortunately,” Helena sighs and finally breaks eye contract. She looks toward the Warehouse.

“I know that I have almost died a few times when you’re around, but you’ve saved my life more than once,” you offer. “I mean I haven’t actually died.” You wait for her to look at you before continuing, “Maybe you’re not the reason I keep almost dying. Maybe you’re the reason I’m still alive.”

You quirks an eyebrow at you and you grin at her. She finally relents and smiles.

Your smile fades as hers does. You add, “Just stay for a few weeks. It’s been slow around her. I’m probably going to need saving sometime soon.”

HG looks at the Warehouse in the distance, “Alright. On a trial basis I suppose.”

“Great,” you smile, glad that she’s going to stay at least for a little while. You miss her when she’s not around, more than you really care to admit.

You walk in silence back to the B&B and then head up to your bedroom. You give her some pajamas to wear and she modestly goes into the bathroom to change. You quickly change while she’s in the bathroom. Then you survey the bed. It’s huge when you’re in it alone, but when HG is in it, you feel like it’s barely big enough for the two of you. Not that she takes up a lot of room, it’s just that you’re very aware of all the space on the bed when she’s in it. Especially the space, or lack of it, in between you.

You decide that the only way to not overreact to her being in your bed is to act naturally. So you turn on the lamp, turn off the overhead light, and slip into bed. You put on your glasses and pick up the first book on your nightstand that HG didn’t write.

“Jules was a bland old codger,” Helena says as she sits down on the bed.

You smile from you book. You love that she knows most of your favorite writers. Also that she is one of your favorite writers, but you try not to think about it too much or you’ll be all that much more nervous when she lies down in your bed. You look the front of the book over, “You knew _Monsieur Verne_?”

“Only in passing,” HG lifts up the blanket and slips under it, “For someone with such a vivid imagination, he was boring at parties.”

You grin, “Maybe his sister wrote all of his stories for him.”

She chuckles, “Perhaps.”

“Do you need me to turn off the light?” you ask her, not wanting to be rude. You just don’t know if you can lay in the dark under the blankets with her.

“No, darling,” she says kindly, “Just carry on as you ordinarily would.” She lays on her side, facing away from you.

You look at her a little longer and then add, “Goodnight, Helena.”

“Goodnight, Myka,” she says back.

You turn back to your book and smile contently at the pages. You may not be able to concentrate enough to read, but for tonight you know that HG is warm and safe in your bed.


	3. Chapter 3

“Stop!”

The yell echoes through the bedroom and yanks you out of a content sleep. You reach for the gun under your bedside table only to remember that you’re not in your own bed. So you turn on the lamp.

Next to you, Myka is sitting up in the bed. She’s sweating and panting. Her legs are still under the covers so she never fully left the bed. You put your hand on her back, “Myka, what’s wrong?”

The door flies open and Pete jumps into the room wearing only boxers, a Tesla in his hand. Claudia and Steve are close behind. Steve is holding a gun and Claudia has a rather impressive looking Tesla rifle.

“What’s going on?” Abigail asks, poking her head in between Steve and Claudia.

“Nothing,” Myka shakes her head, reading her forearms on her knees. “I’m fine. It was just a dream.”

Everyone lowers their weapons. Pete looks at Myka, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Myka nods. “Yeah. Sorry for waking everyone.”

Pete meets your eyes and gives you a nod, letting you know that he entrusts Myka in your care. You nod back as everyone shuffles out. 

As soon as the door closes she turns to you, tears in her eyes and falls into you. Her strong arms hold you tight to her, snaking around your shoulders. You don’t know what’s wrong, but you hold her as well. You rub her back and tell her that it’s alright. You tell her that she’s okay and that she’s safe. You assure her it was just a dream.

But she shakes her head and pulls away, wiping her eyes, “It’s not a dream. I keep…” she sniffles, “I keep having this…memory.”

“Memory of what, darling?” you ask her gently, continuing to rub her back.

“You,” she utters almost inaudibly.

“Me?” you prod. You glance at the nightstand and grab a tissue out of the flower printed box it’s in and hand it to her.

She takes it from you and wipes under her eyes, “You saved us. The bomb Artie told us about – it-it-it…” she takes a deep breath, “You redirected part of the shield around me and Pete and Artie, but you…did it from the outside. You always do it from the outside.” Tears well up in her eyes, “It’s always so real.”

You pull her into your arms. You stroke her hair and tell her that it was just a dream, although you’re sure now that it’s not. You have the dreams…memories too. You remember the panic you felt that the bomb was unstoppable. Then you remember the moment you figured out how to redirect the warehouse’s shield. You remember the sorrow you felt when you realized it had to be initiated from the outside and the resolve you felt knowing that no matter what it would save Myka. You remember the peace you felt when you saw the shield surround Myka, Pete, and Artie. You remember the joy you felt knowing that Myka would be the last thing you’d ever see. Then you smelt apples.

“It’s alright, darling,” you whisper into her hair, “I’m right here. I’m fine.”

She isn’t crying anymore, but she’s still clinging to you. You don’t mind. You’ll hold her for as long as she needs.

However she doesn’t need it much longer. She pulls away and tucks her hair behind her ear. “I-I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you take her hand and hold it in your lap, “Does it happen often?”

Myka bows her head but looks up at you through her eyelashes. She slowly nods.

You let go of her hand and reach forward to touch her cheek, “I’m so sorry.” You know that your memory always has some kind of closure, but hers seems to be torturing her every night.

“I know that it’s not real, but…” Myka trails off and shakes her head.

You have to let her know that she’s not alone in this. She’s not going crazy. “It is real.”

She looks up at you, confused, “What?”

“I have hypothesized that the memories are the remnants of what happened that day, the one Artie reset,” you confess. “I have the memory as well. Your eyes…looking at me through the shield right before the bomb goes off,” you take a deep breath, “They haunt me.”

Realization strikes her and she sniffles, “So it’s a real memory? You gave your life to save me?”

You look down at your hands in your lap and nod, “I learned a long time ago that I would sacrifice myself to ensure your safety.”

She’s quiet for a moment. Then she pulls you into her arms, “Thank you.”

“Quite literally any time,” you tell her, holding her to your chest.

You rub her back and try to stay strong for her. You cradle the back of her head. You realize that this is the most that you and Myka have touched each other in a long time. The most contact between your bodies and the longest you’ve ever had the opportunity to hold her.

When she pulls away you know that it’s the last time because of the resolve on her face. She gives you a shy smile, “I’m sorry again for waking you up.”

“It’s never a problem,” you tell her.

Then you both lay down. You turn off the lamp and settle into a comfortable position. As you close your eyes, you can feel Myka’s arm moving around. Then you feel her hand wrap around yours. You smile into the darkness and adjust the hold so it feels more natural. “Goodnight, Agent Bering.”

“Goodnight, HG Wells.”

In the morning you wake up to Myka moving around the room. When your eyes flutter open, you see her walking toward the door. She’s wearing a bra and pants with a shirt in her hand. She pauses at the door and pulls her shirt over her head.

Then she puts her hand on the door knob and looks back at you. She catches your eyes. You’re sure you’ve been caught with inappropriate looks and inappropriate thoughts, but she smiles at you, “Hey.”

“Hello,” you say.

“Did I wake you up again?” she asks.

You shake your head and run a hand through your hair, “No.” You sit up and fix your shirt. “Are you going to work?”

She has the crooked smile on that you love so much, “No. But breakfast around his has been a competition lately. I think there’s muffins and I was going to go snag one before Pete gets in the kitchen.”

You chuckle, “I see.”

“I’ll save you a muffin,” she says warmly before stepping out into the hallway.

You decide that if breakfast is a competition, you should get dressed and into the fray. You open the suitcase that you brought with you and pull out your last pair of jeans. You pull on your blue button down shirt and run quickly through your bathroom routine.

Then you slip on some boots and make your way downstairs. When you get to the kitchen you find that you are the last to arrive. You see an empty plastic tray filled with pastry crumbs. Pete has his arm around a small pile of danishes while Claudia stands over him, threatening to Tesla him if he doesn’t give her an apple one. Abigail is standing tiredly in front of the coffee maker, waiting for another pot to brew. Steve is drinking tea and eating a muffin. Artie isn’t around, but from your previous encounters, you’re glad that you haven’t run into him this early. He’s absolutely not a morning person.

As you’re surveying the group, you hear a small tapping noise. You look up to find that Myka is outside the French doors. She grins mischievously and beckons you outside with her index finger. Before you start walking, she presses her fingers to her lips and eyes the battle at the table.

You nod and tiptoe to the door. Myka opens it for you and you slip outside, accidentally brushing against her as you pass.

When you see the table, you know why she told you to be quiet. There are two muffins on the table as well as two cups of coffee, a banana, and an orange. You wouldn’t want Pete and Claudia to get wind of this feast.

“Thank you so much,” you tell Myka, putting your hand on her arm. “I was afraid that I was going to have to drive into town to have breakfast.”

Myka puts her hand on top of yours, “No problem.”

You both sit down across from each other. You silently eat as the solemnity of what you’re going to do hits you. You’re going to the Warehouse to figure out if it’s your home. If it’s not, you have nowhere in this world to belong.

Myka seems to know so she offers, “I’ll be right there with you.”

You nod, “Thank you.”

You sip your coffee and manage to eat most of the muffin Myka swiped for you. After splitting the orange, you sit back in your chair, unsure of if you’re really ready for this.

“It’s good to see you again Ms. Wells.”

You look up from the plate you were staring at the see Mrs. Frederick. You nod. As strange as it is interacting with her, you have missed her as well. “Mrs. Frederick.” You glance at Myka to see that she’s just as surprised to see Mrs. Frederick.

“There’s an artifact that I want you to find,” she says, cutting directly to the chase.

You blink, “Me?”

“As well as Agent Bering,” Mrs. Frederick nods. “It is a dangerous artifact that you have had experience tracking.” She pauses, “The Villa Diodati Candlestick has is believed to be in Seattle.” She places a folder on the table.

You freeze. You know it well. You know that it killed your partner.

“Villa Diodati?” Myka asks, “The estate where Lord Byron, Mary Shelley, and her husband and step-sister spend the summer where The Vampyre and Frankenstein was written?”

“Quite,” you answer for Mrs. Frederick, “The candlestick was often lit on the table around which the group told their stories. It absorbed the ability to bring monsters to life.”

“Monsters?” Myka asks, looking alarmed.

You just nod. You look up at Mrs. Frederick, “I can find it myself.” You resist looking at Myka because you don’t want to know if there’s any disappointment in her eyes. Or worse, you hurt her feelings because you don’t want her anywhere near this artifact.

“It wasn’t a request Agent Wells,” Mrs. Frederick looks at you pointedly.

Normally you would acquiesce, but you will _not_ endanger Myka like that. “I’m not an agent anymore.” You stand up and pick up the folder. You walk past Mrs. Frederick and walk down the stairs, toward the row of cars belonging to various residents in the house and yours.

You left your keys in the car as you always do at the B&B. You have learned that precious seconds wasted on searching for keys in the house can be eliminated by leaving them in the ignition.

As you reverse your car out of the spot it was in, the door opens and Myka sits down in the passengers’ seat. She closes the door and puts on her seatbelt like she’s didn’t just get into a moving car.

“What are you doing?” you ask, stopping the car.

“I’m going with you,” she states, slipping on her sunglasses. “We’ll have to take a flight from Pierre to Huron, then we can get on the eleven thirty to Seattle.”

“You are most certainly not going with me,” you state.

She turns to you, “I am. What are you going to do? Tesla me? Kick me out of the car?”

You sigh and lean back in your seat, “Myka, this artifact is…”

“Dangerous,” she says, “Just like all the other ones. All the more reason you shouldn’t go alone.”

“Myka,” you try to get her to understand, but she doesn’t move.

She picks up her phone and looks at it, “Do you want an SUV rental or a sedan?”

You shake your head to yourself. You find her tactics adorable. You’ll just have to find a way to protect her once you get there. “Sports car.”

“Nice choice,” Myka grins as you put the car in park.

After boarding the flight, Myka hands you the folder. “There’s, um, the report of your partner’s death in there.”

You give her a slight nod as a thank you for the warning. You take a deep breath and open the folder. The only thing that you read that you didn’t already know is where the artifact has been since you last saw it in 1889. You close the folder and rest it on the tray attached to the seat behind you.

“Can I get you something to drink?” the flight attendant asks.

You look to Myka to answer first. “Ginger ale.”

Then you look to the flight attendant, “Just water please.”

He nods with a smile and walks off.

“Are you okay?” Myka asks.

You nod, but add, “I wish you hadn’t come.”

“What happened wasn’t your fault,” Myka rests her hand on your arm.

You shake your head. You decide to drop it for now. She’s going to be in Seattle with you. You just have to formulate a way to protect her.

Soon you’re standing in front of the house of the last person to have been killed by the artifact. You and Myka walk up to the front door together. Myka glances behind herself at the sign in the front yard, “Her husband didn’t waste any time ditching the house.”

You nod and saw that as you walked up. You scan the front of the house. Nothing out of the ordinary. You observe a blue box hanging on the front door. “What sort of lock is that?”

“It’s a box that real estate agents keep keys to the house in so they can show it,” Myka puts her foot up on the first step leading up to the house, “Do you think you can open it?”

“I guess I could give it a shot,” you offer and start walking up the stairs to the house.

Just as you’re about to bend over to examine the box a car pulls up behind your rental car. A well-dressed man gets out and gives you a smile. “Hello there,” he closes the door to his shiny car, “Admiring the house?”

“Oh yes, it’s quite lovely,” you say back to him as he walks closer and you descend the stairs to stand next to Myka and talk to him.

“It’s a great property,” he offers his hand to you to shake, “I’m the listing agent, Chris.” You shake it and then he offers his hand to Myka.

Myka shakes his hand. Then she looks from you, back to him. “My,” she pauses, “Girlfriend and I are looking for a place to move in together.” You’re stunned when she takes your hand, threading your fingers together.

The realtor doesn’t skip a beat, “I’m glad you stopped to look. The price has just been reduced.” He fiddles with the box on the door before opening the house. “I have another appointment in an hour and was just stopping by the see if the house needed a little touch up, but I guess I could sneak you in.” He holds the door open for the two of you and you allow Myka to lead you inside.

Myka doesn’t let go of your hand and you walk through the already furnished and decorated house.

“Does someone still live here?” you ask Chris as he starts walking around the house, straightening things.

“Yes. The owner of the house was recently,” he pauses as he fluffs a couch cushion, “separated from his wife. He wants to downsize immediately.”

“Where is he?” you ask.

Chris adjusts his blue suit jacket, “He’s currently at work.”

You share a suspicious look with Myka before she gently leads you to the kitchen. You walk past the dining room on the way and scan the table. You mumble to yourself, “Of course it couldn’t be where it’s supposed to be.”

You glance over at Myka who is donning a smirk.

In the kitchen, Myka’s phone dings. You’re both on the opposite side of the door from the island so she sets her phone down on the white tile and waits for you to stand in front of it before putting her arms on either side of you to look over your shoulder.

She whispers softly in your ear, “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

You can barely talk with her soft breath on your ear so you just shake your head.

She rests her chin on your shoulder to look at the file that was just sent to her phone. “It’s the EMT report.”

“She was found upstairs mauled to death,” you breathe out as you read it over.

“Any questions so far?” Chris asks, walking into the kitchen.

Myka quickly asks, “How many bedrooms?”

“Three,” Chris smiles, “Thinking of adding to the family? There’s a study attached to the master bedroom that can be converted into a nursery.”

You are having trouble keeping your composure when Myka keeps touching you like you’re more than friends so you’re silent when she adds, placing her hand tenderly over your stomach, “Hopefully sometime soon.”

You can’t help, but smile at that thought. You remember when Christina was growing inside of you. You read anything you could about biology and fetal formation. Not standard practice for women of your time, but you wanted to know everything. You look over at Myka who is beaming convincingly. When she sees you look, she dips her head down and buries her face in your shoulder. You reach back and cradle the back of her head with your hand.

“I can see that you two will live long and happily together with whatever children you chose to have,” Chris says with a less cheesy smile. “Shall we go look upstairs?”

Then the moment is ruined and you’re back on the case. You clear your throat and nod, “Yes please.”

When you walk into the bedroom you can immediately smell the faint traces of industrial solvents probably used to clean up the gruesome scene that took place here.

Myka’s hand slips into yours again, but this time you think it is out of the security of touching you as opposed to the play you’re putting on. She felt the same chill that you did when you walked into the master bedroom.

It is large and grandiose with an elevated platform for the bed and huge windows. You look at all the flat surfaces and have yet to find the candlestick. However you do spot something that is curious. You disengage from Myka to check the closet and while she checks the bathroom. Then you walk over to the bed. In one of the posts guarding the bed, there is a large, long gash in the beautiful wood.

“Uh, the bed doesn’t come with the house,” Chris mentions.

“We should get one like this,” you say, then turn to Myka, “Come look at this, Darling.”

She takes the two steps up to the platform and leans in close to you to examine the wood, her hand resting on the small of your back. She whispers, “It looks like a claw mark.”

You run your finger over it and nod, “Exactly.”

“It’s huge,” Myka breathes out.

You nod slowly. An artifact that is limited only by the user’s imagination can cause unimaginable devastation.

“What do you think?” Chris asks, lingering in the doorway.

“We were actually on our way to see a loft overlooking the sound,” Myka says for the two of you. She walks to the real estate agent, “But how about we get your card?” She grins, “We stopped to look because she loved the outside and,” Myka shrugs with a smirk thrown your way, “she gets what she wants.”

“Of course,” Chris says reaching into his pocket. He gives you both a smile as you start to walk out.

Chris stands in the doorway while you and Myka walk back to the rental car hand in hand. You open the driver’s door for her and she smiles at you mouthing, “Thank you.”

After the door is closed, you wave to Chris who is still watching you and then walk around the car.

When you sit down in your seat and close your door, you add, “Well we aren’t going to be able to do a thorough search with him around.”

Myka nods, pulling out her sunglasses, “Yeah. I say we go visit the husband at work then come back after dark to search.”

“Righty ho then,” you nod.


	4. Chapter 4

You sigh and look around at the Seattle night sky before focusing on the road back to the hotel, “So he was passed out drunk at his desk because he was either overcome with sorrow for the death of his wife.”

“Or,” HG adds, “Overcome with remorse for killing her, desperate to get out of the house in which he committed the murder.”

“What do you think?” you ask her.

Helena takes a deep breath, “I don’t think he did it. Although there can be a great shock to the user when the artifact is activated.”

“Can I ask you what happened?” you have to ask. Not only for the case, but so that HG doesn’t have to sit alone in the burden of knowing what happened.

She’s quiet for the few minutes it takes you to pull into the valet area under the awning of the hotel.

She turns to you as the valet runs to your side of the car, “Can we get a drink first?”

You nod, “Of course.” You catch her eyes and try to offer her a reassuring look. She forces a tight smile and nods before getting out of the car.

She has her bag in her hand and you put your phone in your pocket. With such an abrupt exit you didn’t get to pack and HG only has the small bag of clothes that was in her car when you got to the airport. You hand over your keys to the valet and walk with Helena inside to check in. She gives her bag to the bellhop and he looks relieved that it’s only one, then takes it up to your room.

You don’t go up to the room immediately. You go to the dim bar on the far side of the lobby. You sit down at a secluded, tall table for two. You sit at the table while HG goes to get you a drink.

She returns with two drinks and a hamburger. “You haven’t eaten today.”

You smile and look down at the food. “Thank you.” You notice that she didn’t get anything for herself so you pick up the knife on the plate and cut the burger in half. Then you separate the fries in half. You push the plate between the two of you and look at her.

She offers you a small smile, “You know that it was a time in my life where I had become reckless.” Her smile fades as she takes a drink from her glass. “We were entering a building. I…I took off without him, giving no thought to leaving him alone or to my own safety.” She swallows. “When I returned, he’d been strangled by some kind of creature.”

“Creature?” you have to ask, “Did you-Did you see it?”

She takes another sip of her drink and opens her mouth to answer just as your Farnsworth goes off. You pull it out of your pocket and open it.

“Hey Myka,” Pete says. “How’s it going?”

“Nothing so far,” you tell him. “Just a huge claw mark in a bed post.”

“I didn’t ask what you and HG were up to,” he quirks an eyebrow playfully at you.

You blush heavily and regret confessing your feelings about HG to Pete. You glance up to see if HG noticed. You don’t think that she did because she’s walking back to the bar with an empty glass. You’re worried that she’s going to drink herself into a stupor over this case, but you see the bartender slide her over a glass of water.

“So really nothing?” Pete asks, “Do you need me to fly up there?”

You shake your head. You know that Helena doesn’t want you here. You doubt she’d be any nicer about it to Pete. “Not yet. But maybe search for any suspicious mauling or strangulations.”

“Strangulations?” he asks

You glance up to see Helena sitting down across from you. “Yeah. Any suspicious deaths that could have been committed by a…Just any suspicious deaths. Email them to me and we’ll go through them.”

“Alright,” Pete nods. “Over and out.” Because he fully hands up you can hear him call Claudia.

You close your Farnsworth and slip it back in your pocket. You push your hair out of your face, “We have some work to do.”

“Fantastic,” Helena says with a nod.

After you threaten to sit at the table all night until she eats, you leave the table with a clean plate and empty glasses. You silently walk to the elevator and ride up to your floor. You open the door for Helena and watch her walk in. You close and lock the door behind yourself.

She goes to sit on the bed and you finally realize that you don’t actually have your computer with you. However you watch Helena open her bag and extract a laptop. She sets it on the bed. Then she puts her hand on her hips and looks at you. “I’m uh, sorry that I didn’t let you prepare for this trip.”

“I understand why you didn’t want me to come,” you tell her. You walk over to her and stand next to her, unsure if you can touch her anymore, especially about the stunt you pulled with the real estate agent. It just felt so good to hold her hand that you wanted to know what it was like to have your arms around her. Then you wanted to know what it was like to rest your chin on her shoulder.

You’re just thankful that you didn’t let go of your normally tightly reigned emotions because you would have kissed her. You know you would have.

“You can use my laptop,” she waves at it.

You smile and try to lighten the mood, “Welcome to the twenty-first century Ms. Wells.”

She cracks a smile. “Well I’ve been trying.”

You both sit down on the bed farthest away from the door and open your laptop. Helena sits down against the headboard and looks over the paper file that Mrs. Frederick gave you.

You read file after file, but can’t find a pattern. Finally you just close the laptop and rub your eyes, “Are you finding anything?”

HG shakes her head and drops the file. “Nothing.”

“Well tomorrow we can go visit some of the victims’ families,” you say and set the laptop on the nightstand between the beds.

She nods, “Right.”

You get up and kick off your shoes, placing them next to the other bed. “Are you alright?”

She pauses so that you won’t believe what she says next. “Yes.”

You shake your head, “We’ll find this artifact tomorrow and it won’t hurt anyone else ever again.”

She licks her lips, “I certainly hope so.”

“Do you wanna…watch a movie?” you ask gesturing to the tv.

Helena looks to the tv, “If you’d like, but I refuse to watch any movies based on my books.”

You chuckle, “I’m sorry about those.” You pick up the remote and turn on the tv. “I wanted to um, thank you for not freaking out today.”

“About what?” she asks you, looking up, her hair falling away from her face.

You take a deep breath, “We hadn’t really talked about out plan going into it. I didn’t mean to make you my fake girlfriend on the spot.”

She smiles, “It’s perfectly alright, Myka. It was quite fun actually.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised. You were scared that you were making her uncomfortable.

“Really,” she nods. She gives you a smile.

You love that smile. You just look at her for a little bit before you turn to the TV. As you channel surf you start to sit down on the foot of HG’s bed. As you do, something pokes your butt and you stand up.

Helena chuckles, “Sorry. My emergency bag doesn’t have much clothing in it.”

You look down at the bag you almost sat on and pull one of the sides to peek inside. You see what you’ve come to know is a Tesla that she made herself as well as a grappler. You pick up the grappler and grin at her, “Here I thought I had the only one.”

She smiles, “A girl can’t be without her grappler can she?”

“I guess not,” you say. Then you look down at what you’re wearing, “But I’m without anything at the moment.” This is why you had to lie to the real estate agent instead of just telling him you were Secret Service. Your badge, gun, and Tesla are back at the B&B. You tell Helena that.

She takes a deep breath, “Sorry again. I’m still…uneasy about you being here. I’m sure that I can acquire the artifact by myself.”

“You can do it yourself,” you shrug, “I’ll just tag along. Maybe learn a thing or two.” You sit down on the bed next to her and watch her, waiting for her next move.

She ducks her head and smiles, “I’m not going to talk you out of this am I?”

“Nope,” you tell her. “And, because I know you’re capable of sneaking away, I will be sleeping in front of the door.” And in all honestly you will if you think that she’s going to try to sneak off. She won’t be facing this danger alone.

“That’s not necessary,” she shakes her head, “I shan’t leave without you if you really don’t want me to.”

You grin again. “Good. I also thought about handcuffing us together, but those are still at the B&B as well.”

She’s quiet. She looks down at your hands. Then she swallows and looks up at you. Your smile fades as you’re swallowed by the intensity of her eyes. “I know I haven’t been the most reliable person, but I’m here now. I’m here for you and I won’t do anything to betray you. I may seem hard to accept, but-”

“I trust you,” you tell her immediately. When she looks surprised you go on, “I’ve always trusted you.”

She bows her head, “We both know that at some points your generous trust had been misplaced.”

“I trusted you then and I trust you now,” you take her hands and hold them in your own. “Even when I was the only one. Even after what happened with the trident. You have _never_ hurt me.”

“Not physically,” she says, eyes covered with a thin film of tears.

You suck your bottom lip between your teeth. She’s right. She has emotionally devastated you. But she also helped you come back from it. She made you smarter and stronger. But now she’s proved that she would sacrifice herself for you and the Warehouse. There were two times in which she willingly surrendered her life to protect you and the Warehouse. She would not only never let you get hurt, but she would lay her life down for you. “You did hurt me, but you helped me recover. And I’m fine now – better than ever actually. I’m more confident as a Warehouse agent. And right now – right now I feel safe. I always feel safe with you, even when everyone was telling me that I shouldn’t be.” She looks confused by this, but you don’t know what to add to clarify your points. You sit back, but keep hold of her hands, “I know I’m safe with you. I trust you completely.”

She blinks away tears, “Thank you, Myka.”

You reach up and touch her cheek, catching a stray tear in your palm. “What do you say we order up a bottle of wine?”

“In the middle of an investigation?” Helena asks, breaking away from you to dab the tears that gathered under her eyes.

You give her a soft smile, “Then we’ll make it a white wine.”


End file.
